


Keeping Warm

by orphan_account



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: F/M, Reader-Insert, Smut, in the second chapter :)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-13
Updated: 2015-05-14
Packaged: 2018-03-30 08:07:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3929314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A tight space, dropping temperatures, and rising tempers.  There's only one way this could go.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is the wonderful start of my obsession with the concept of enemies-with-benefits and I somehow managed to get away with keeping it clean. if there's some sort of outcry (or whatever, maybe just if I get bored) I will definitely add a part two with smut...

"Stay here. He said he'd be back in twenty minutes." Wesley's voice was hardly laced with concern as you glared out the window of his black SUV.

"Yes, he said that twenty minutes ago." You said shortly. You made to open your door - you were entirely ready to walk home rather than wait any longer with Wesley.

Your hand was reaching for the handle when you hear the familiar click of doors being locked. Your first thought was that you could take this to court - it was kidnapping! And then you remembered how you had completely willingly gotten into the car. And how Wesley's lawyers - no offense to your friends - would be able to run circles around Matt and Foggy once they bought off the judge and jury.

You dropped your hand and opted instead to simply bang your head against the window, letting the frost seep into your brain. It was more than cold on your cheek, it was biting. You were such an idiot. _"A ride to the police station, some time to talk about the case."_ Bullshit.

"You'll get frostbite like that." Wesley said cooly, as if he hadn't just casually trapped you in the stupid, freezing car. Like a petulant child, you ignored his warning.

"Doesn't this car have a heating system?" You muttered under your breath as your cheek continued to freeze itself to the window. Minus twenty-five in New York City, you'd think James Wesley would be prepared.

"Unfortunately, our driver took the keys when he left."

You almost wondered if he had done so on purpose. Begrudgingly, you peeled your face off the window and turned to glare at Wesley. He looked unperturbed as ever, staring straight forward, not a care in the world.

"Was this a set-up?" You asked, trying not to let your voice shake from the cold. 

"Would you like my coat?" Wesley turned to regard you briefly, his face not betraying his mask of courtesy.

"No." You replied, tucking your fingers under your arms in an attempt to keep them from going completely numb. "Then you'd just be cold." You added. Wesley tilted his head to the side. You hadn't meant for it to sound concerned.

Despite your refusal, the next thing you felt was a heavy coat being placed on top of you. It smelled of expensive cologne and your complete and utter defeat.

Immediately, your body reacted to the change in temperature. The feeling returned to your fingers as you pulled the coat up past your nose. You hated the powerlessness of the position, but prefered the warmth.

You sat in silence a few moments, before your side began to buzz. Wesley's cell phone. You shifted to reach into the pocket at the same time his hand darted out, and you found yourself somehow gripping his hand.

They were remarkably soft. 

"Jesus!" You retracted your hand quickly as he grabbed the phone. "Your hands are cold." He must have declined the call, because he simply tucked the phone into his pants pocket.

A part of you wanted to let him freeze. But you couldn't help but wonder if you were being more than a little immature. 

"Hey."

Wesley looked over at you. Instead of speaking, you simply lifted up the side of the coat. He turned slightly and you rose your eyebrows. The smell of the cologne nearly doubled as Wesley entered your personal space, his arm pressing against yours as you adjusted the coat over both of you. For a moment you wanted to lean into him. For that, you internally slapped yourself. Still, if you had been aware of his presence before, this was hyper-sensitivity.

"This was on purpose, though, right?" You looked up at Wesley. You at least wanted to be able to blame him, should anything happen. Not that anything was going to happen, you assured yourself.

"I thought you might figure that out." You weren't angry. In fact, it was a little comfort to know the situation was under control. Mostly, you were curious.

"Why?"

Wesley only smirked.

"What, happy to prove I'm a decent human being?" You rolled your eyes. "Better than you, at least."

Wesley's smile twitched. "How so?"

You opened your mouth to explain exactly how so, but you couldn't find the evidence. Given the situation, he'd provided nothing but courtesy, if not a little cooly. And you'd... snarked at him. Sure he was rich, entitled probably. Seemed to think a little too lowly of your friends, but all in all, you were lacking an argument.

"Shut up." You snapped.

"That's it?" Wesley tsk-ed. "Well, I can see why you didn't pass the bar."

Ohh, sore spot. 

"Shut up." You practically growled. 

"I didn't mean to offend." Wesley replied.

"Well, you did."

Wesley would never say something so childish, but the way he continued talking (though you had, rather indignantly, decided to stop listening to his individual words at this point) came across as a sly _"Make me."_

And god damn it, you were going to make him.

As you grabbed him by the tie and pulled his face to yours, you briefly wondered if this was what he had been planning the whole time. You could taste the spearmint gum on his breath, and you kind of hated how perfectly your lips fit together. You hated how you were playing right into his hands. You hated him (or maybe you hated yourself) but it didn't really matter. Your hands moved to Wesley's shoulder, pushing him down on to the leather seat beneath you. His coat fell off you, but it didn't matter - you were more than hot enough now.

Your lips smashed together again, but you took some small comfort in knowing you were in control. Wesley's hands grabbed at your waist, trying to pull you down, but you wouldn't relent. You could tell you'd taken him by surprise. As he tried to catch his breath, Wesley showed you more emotion than he had all evening.

"Is this what you want?" You asked, feeling his blunt nails digging into your sides.

"I want you."

This was easily the worst scenario you could have been tossed into. Your thoughts shifted to Hell's Kitchen - to Foggy and Matt, and what they would say if they found out. But then they were back on the man in front of you, panting heavily, glasses askew, dishevveled and disgustingly enticing.

Tilting your head down, you bit Wesley's lower lip and went in for another kiss. You would have plenty of time to regret this later, you knew, but for now? It was a matter of keeping warm.


	2. Staying Warm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one's got smut B)

There wasn't as much space to move as you would have liked, but it was enough. With one hand, you kept yourself propped up above Wesley. The leather seat was starting to feel sticky from the sweat of your palm, but you forced yourself to stay steady. In the pit of your stomach you knew that if you were to show weakness, things would only get worse. Your other hand fumbled at the tie around his neck. If your fingers had been numb before, they were on fire now. As you pulled the knot undone, Wesley turned his head so that you could throw the tie to the side and capture his lips in another messy kiss. Wesley shifted under you as you made out, propping himself on his elbows so that you didn't have to hold yourself up. Always so accomodating.

Now that your hands were free, you didn't waste your time on buttons. _Maybe some of them would pop off entirely_ , you thought with a smirk as you pulled open Wesley's shirt. He might have been upset with you, but you didn't care. You were sure he'd get over your lack of concern for his clothing, given the circumstances. After all, there were more pressing matters to attend to.

Straddling him now with his chest exposed, you were at the right angle to bend down and lick a stripe up his stomach, feeling his muscles tense at your touch.

You briefly considered how his exposed flesh must be chilly, and a devious grin crept onto your face. You blew a cool stream of air over his skin and watched with delight as he tried not to shiver. He hadn't banked on you taking control like this, had he?

Perhaps he had had enough of it, though, because next thing you knew, your back was pressed up against the seat and your hands were behind held roughly against the cold window. You squirmed, more in frustration than in an actual attempt to get away. Wesley leaned over you, and you finally caught a glimpse of what was hiding under that cold exterior. Without your morals to distract you, you momentarily found yourself thinking about how _good_ Wesley looked like this.

You didn't have much time to think about anything too deeply, however, because it was hard to focus when Wesley was biting at your neck like that. More so than before, the gravity of your situation hit you, and as Wesley bit down on your shoulder, you suddenly felt heat pooling between your legs. In an attempt for either modesty or friction, you tried to squeeze your legs together. It didn't last long. Wesley adjusted himself on the seat, jamming a knee between your legs. You couldn't help groaning.

"Stop being difficult." He whispered.  
"I haven't _done_ anything!" You retorted. Insufferable. Hot, but insufferable.

Still looking for pressure, you shamelessly ground yourself into Wesley's knee. It didn't feel _great_ , but it was better than the nothing you were getting from the rest of-.

Wesley had let go of your hands and they dropped uselessly to your sides as he pulled you onto his lap. The first thing that crossed your mind was relief - that you weren't the only one who was turned on.

Feeling a renewed sense of power, you ground yourself down onto Wesley's hardening cock, finally eliciting a moan from him when you raised your hips up out of his reach.

"Stop being difficult." You smirked, spitting his words back at him as his fingernails pressed into your butt, trying to bring you back down.

He tried to protest, but you pressed your mouth to his in an open-mouthed kiss, still keeping just out of reach. His tongue ran along your bottom lip before he bit down, even harder than you had before. In shock, your legs went weak and Wesley managed to pull you back down on top of him.

You had stopped kissing him now, and from your angle could see just how his lips were parted, how his breaths were coming short. His eyes fluttered shut and his head titled back, exposing his neck, which you promptly lowered your lips to, sucking hard. His hands found your waist and dragged down, pulling down your pants. You retaliated by sitting back up and undoing his belt and pants. At least you could keep the playing field even.

As soon as you reached down to wrap a hand around him, you knew you were done for. Wesley wasn't even pretending to be unaffected by now. His breathing was ragged as you stroked him (maybe just a little harder than you would have anyone else). He practically whined when you stopped, but you didn't care. Selfish, perhaps, but you could feel your own wetness and were quite sure that if you didn't do something about it immediately, you might collapse.

Gripping Wesley's shoulder with one hand, you slipped the other into your folds. You inhaled sharply at the touch, but you weren't in control for long. Wesley pulled your fingers away from you and replaced them with his own. Without so much as a warning, he slid his index finger inside you, making you grip his shoulder ever tighter, leaving half-moon marks on his skin.

You tried to keep your gasps to yourself, but it was a fruitless effort. Inside of you, his finger bent slightly, and his thumb came to press on your clit. You didn't even have to look at Wesley to see the wolfish grin that was playing on his lips as you felt your climax nearing. He was going to bring you right to the edge before he stopped.

And stop he did. Almost casually, his finger slid out of you and you were empty. You were loathe to act so desperately, but he knew exactly how to play you. Seeing nothing else for it, you grabbed him by the base of his cock and all but slammed yourself onto him. The shock alone must have wiped the grin off his face, you thought triumphantly. You moaned almost in unison, momentarily forgetting your battle. 

You hated to admit it, but it was _amazing_. Every stroke filled you up, and the added pressure of Wesley's nails digging into your sides as he pulled you down on top of him reminded you what was going on below the surface. You were sure your nails were cutting into his shoulders, keeping him aware of the same thing. _God forbid_ , you thought, _we should forget we're supposed to hate each other._

Wesley set the pace with his hands as you rode him. Though you remained rhythmic at first, it quickly became a more erratic art. He would hit your g-spot, you would shudder and moan. Your breaths came out in puffs of cold air, but you felt hot. There was a knot in your core and it was getting tighter and tighter and you didn't have the mental capacity to consider the temperature, or how this was easily the best fuck you'd had in ages - despite your partner (or was it because of him?). You might have said something under your breath, because beneath you, Wesley adjusted his position and one of his hands left your back to rub your clit, making it _extremely hard_ for you to put on any pretense of control. In this state, the best you could do was drop your head, feel the stretch in your neck as you bit down on Wesley's shoulder. You used his skin to muffle your shout as you felt your walls clench, felt the knot pop. Your eyes squeezed shut as you came, shuddering in Wesley's arms. 

Your release must have triggered his own, and he didn't even bother to attempt to control himself. His hand, still holding you, was sure to leave a bruise, and if there had been anyone on the street outside, they would easily have heard him moaning your name.

Weakly, you slid off of Wesley, feeling a sickening mixture of relief and disgust. Cum dripped down your leg, but you didn't care as you hastened to pull up your pants. You could hear Wesley shrugging his shirt back on, and you numbly hoped that a button or two had popped off. Neither of you bothered to pick up his coat, lying forgotten on the floor.

Without a word, Wesley extracted his cell phone from his pocket and dialled a number. You tried not to listen to how casually he spoke, how easily he had gotten his breath back and slipped into his old demeanour. As he spoke, you thought about what to say. If you should even say anything. It might have been better if you didn't.

"Am I to assume this... never happened?" You asked as soon as he hung up.

Wesley turned to regard you. "If that's what you want, [Y/N]." He spoke in his usual even tone, not allowing for even a hint of his own opinion to seep into his words. A part of you told you to be done with him. Go back to Nelson and Murdock and forget this ever happened. Another part, and perhaps a larger part, wasn't convinced you were quite _done_ with James Wesley yet.

His eyes flickered from your own and down to your lips, anticipating your answer.

You felt your mouth open, felt yourself take a breath, egged on by the thought that you would hate yourself either way.

"You should probably just book a hotel room next time." You looked away from him as you spoke, so your couldn't be sure, but in the reflection of the window beside you, you were sure you saw Wesley smile.


End file.
